


From Business to Pleasure

by mewme



Category: Miss Fisher's Murder Mysteries
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-26
Updated: 2015-09-26
Packaged: 2018-04-23 10:42:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,438
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4873732
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mewme/pseuds/mewme
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Phryne and Jack return to the station to go over witness statements and Phryne discovers Jack has plans to inspect her.</p>
            </blockquote>





	From Business to Pleasure

Phryne let out a breathy laugh as Jack pulled her into his office and shut the door with the force of her body. It was late and the station was all but deserted. He pressed into her as his lips moved to her jaw, then neck, tongue and teeth trailing over her collarbone. Phryne let out a soft moan and moved her lips to meet Jack’s. He pulled away shaking his head.

 

“You’ll leave evidence, Miss Fisher, and we cannot have that at the station.” Jack simply stated as his lips found her neck again. Phryne leaned her head back against the frosted glass as Jack’s hands slid down her sides, slipping down thighs as his fingers bunched the silk in his palms, fingers searching for her garter. “It’s a good thing you wore a skirt today, Miss Fisher.”

 

“Why, Inspector. Is it my turn to be searched? Aren’t we a bit late—“ Her voice broke off in a gasp as Jack’s fingers found flesh. “I don’t believe I hid anything there.”

 

“Must be thorough, Miss Fisher.” Jack pulled away but pressed Phryne back when she moved towards him. “Stay there. I did not give you permission to move.” Phryne leaned back against the door, her hand raised in a salute.

 

“Yes, sir.” Jack shrugged out of his coat and laid it on the visitor chair, one often ignored by Phryne. Next came his suit coat. “Are you intending to strip for me, Inspector? I didn’t think that was the plan.”

 

“It isn’t, Miss Fisher. At least not tonight.” His fingers undid his cuff links, placing them in his pocket. He watched her as he rolled his sleeves. “Lock the door,” Jack said with a growl. He heard the click as he walked toward her. “Now, Miss Fisher. Where was I?”

 

“I believe you were inspecting me.”

 

“I believe I was.” Jack moved back to her, brushing her hair from her face. He kissed her forehead, cheeks, nose. She sighed as his mouth moved lower. Chin, neck, shoulder, mouth moving over silk to bite, nuzzle. His teeth found her breast and she arched into him. He slid to his knees, forehead pressed to her belly. He paused there, breathing in her. He looked up at her and she caught his face in her hands. He stared up at her as his fingers trailed over her ankles, his eyes never left hers as his fingers snaked upwards over stockings. His fingers again found the line separating stocking from flesh and stayed there a moment, circling thigh from front to back, trailing up to slip beneath her knickers to her buttocks. Phryne shivered as his touch turned whisper soft and retreated. She felt fabric move beneath her skirt as her knickers pooled at her feet. “Step out, Miss Fisher.” Jack guided her feet as he removed her silken undergarments and gently folded them. She raised an eyebrow as he slipped them into his pocket.

 

“I do not believe you have any right to confiscate them, Inspector.”

 

“I believe they are now evidence, Miss Fisher. It is within my rights to confiscate dangerous and lascivious items.” He tilted his head at her. “Now where was I?”

 

“Inspecting me, Inspector.” She sighed and leaned back against the door. “I do not have all night to be manhandled by the police.” She gasped as he pushed her legs further apart. His lips replaced his fingers as he knelt at her feet in supplication. He kissed her ankles, calves, nibbling along her inner thigh as she pressed back against the door to stay upright. His fingers circled her skin and Phryne was lost in the sensation, overwhelmed by the need he pulled from her. She assisted him by raising her skirts inch by inch until she lay bare to him.

 

“On, Phryne,” she heard him moan against her thigh as his fingers sought her center. He slid one finger between her folds as he pressed lips to her hip, his other hand bracing against her buttocks. One finger turned into two as he slid them up and down, up and down, pressing on her clit as he continued to stroke. He trailed kisses along her hip as he began to nuzzle her curls. Her fingers grasped his hair and pulled back, forcing his head from her. His jaw clenched as he looked at his, moving his hand from her to raise her thigh to his shoulder. She smiled with approval as her grip loosened and he returned to his former position. She felt his hum against her as he nosed into her curls again, fingers stroking, up, press, down, up, press, down slipping one finger then two then three as they stopped their stroking and his tongue mimicked the movements. Up, bite, down. Up, press, down. Up, stroke, stroke, stroke as he worked her, fingers and tongue and mouth competing against the other for what would elicit the loudest gasp, the longest moan, and the deepest nails in his scalp. She pressed his face to her and she tried to piston her hips to his ministrations, her movement stopped by the arm banded against her behind, his hand splayed against her lower back, anchoring her in place. Her knee trembled as it tried to support her as wave after wave of pleasure crashed into her and down, drowning her as she clutched at his head, shoulders, fingers raking cloth and flesh and scalp with equal fervor. She reached out blindly, trying to find something solid to hold onto as his fingers and mouth became more insistent and demanding.

 

“No sound,” he ordered against her, voice muffled and threatening. “No sound or I will have you in handcuffs.” She thought wildly of the fun that may be but decided against it as she heard the station phone ring and a constable answer. He jerked her tighter to him as his fingers dug into her back as her breathing grew ragged and uneven. His thumb replaced his mouth as he slid her thigh from his shoulder and moved to stand, hand traveling from back to brace against the door frame. His fingers played a concert inside her as his lips pressed against hers, salty and wet from his work. “Quiet now, or we’ll be caught.” She moaned against his mouth, tongue darting to taste her on his lips.

 

“Inspector?” A voice called from the front of the station. Jack groaned against Phryne’s hair as she clutched at him.

 

“What is it, Davidson?” He called back, fingers fluttering madly as she pressed his hand tighter to her.

 

“There’s been a report of a brawl at the pub on the corner. Shall I check it out?”

 

“Yes, Davidson. I’ll hold down the fort. It’s quiet tonight and Miss Fisher and I are going over witness statements. I am sure we can manage in your absence.”

 

“Yes, sir. Thank you sir. I’ll return as soon as I can.” Jack grunted a reply as his lips found Phryne’s again as she began to tremble against him.

 

“Oh, Jack, I don’t think I can—“

 

“Against me, Miss Fisher. Against me.” His mouth covered hers and she moaned against his mouth as she came, hips pressed against his hand as he continued to move his fingers inside her. She shuddered as her legs gave out and he finally stopped to keep her upright. He led her to the visitor chair like a drunk. She collapsed boneless and satiated as Jack leaned against his desk with a smirk. He pulled her knickers his pocked and wiped his fingers as she leaned her head back and ran her fingers through her hair with a laugh.

 

“Well, Jack. If that is how you inspect all your female suspects, it’s a wonder why your cells are not full.” She raised her head to look at him. “Really, Jack. Do you not have a handkerchief?”

 

“I believe I lost it at the club tonight. This is much handier.” He wiped his mouth next, a smear of scarlet marking the fabric. “What did I say about leaving evidence, Miss Fisher? Now I really will have to confiscate these.” He placed them back in his pocket and moved to sit behind his desk. “Shall we go over the witness statements, or do you have a better idea?” He leaned back in his chair, tossing a file onto his desk blotter as she stood and walked to him.

 

“Do I have a better idea in mind?” She mused aloud as her fingers found his tie and tugged. "About my better idea.” Jack laughed as he pulled her to his lap.


End file.
